


Space talk

by idkimtired



Series: soft songs for soft people [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andrews POV, M/M, Song Based
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:08:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25242925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idkimtired/pseuds/idkimtired
Summary: Based off Space Talk by the Native ArchitectsThree times on the rooftop
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: soft songs for soft people [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817239
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31





	Space talk

_Here's my heart all locked and loaded_

Andrew stands at the edge of the roof, savouring how his heart beats and his stomach twirls at the dizzying height, turning his head to look over at Neil, sitting down beside him and shaking his head, his locks of auburn hair, dark in the night, stirring in the wind as he does.

_Know in my blood that something good is coming up_

Neil waves a pack of cigarettes and he relents, flinging himself down beside him, maybe a bit nearer than he would anyone else, elbows brushing.

_You turn your eyes to the lucky stars_

He accepts the one he’s handed, twirling it over in his fingers and taking the lighter from the other boy when he’s done, humming as he breathes in the smoke and letting it curl out, blowing the lingering wisps into the night sky, where Neil’s eyes track them to the stars.

_And you say, "oh boy look here you're who I'm thinking of"_

Andrew kicks his foot and Neil looks back at him with a startled look that quickly falls into a knowing smirk. Andrew scowls, rolling his eyes, back at him.

_Oh we light the way_

Sometimes Andrew still isn't sure that Neil is even real, a drug born hallucination or just lonely insanity, but moments like these it's the world that doesn't feel real, the only true thing the man at his side, looking at him like Andrew hung up the stars for him to navigate by.

_Two old flames_

The man burning in the city lights below and the glow of his lit cigarette, set ablaze in the night’s surreal blend of bright colours and darkness.

_Young, in love, and hardly sane_

What an absolute idiot. Andrew isn't even sure who he's thinking of, himself or Neil.

_Oh the cityscape's burning like an ashtray_

He reaches out and covers the other man’s eyes with his hand.

“No. Stop it.” He leans in and blows smoke in his face for emphasis, but the infernal child just leans into his hand and breathes it in.

“Stop what?” Andrew has to look away for a second, unsure why, to the illuminated city sprawled out below, a kaleidoscope of dancing colours, and take a small breath before he can reply.

“What have i said about looking at me like that?”

_Like an ashtray_

“Like what?” Like what indeed. Of course Andrew’s stuck with the idiot. Like Andrew did anything to deserve that look on anybody’s face. Like what? Like Andrew is worth anything as a person, like he really did hang up the stars and maybe the moon too. Like… like something Andrew doesn't want to talk about.

He removes his hand so Neil can see the flat look he gives him, but the other man just looks confused. He seems to think it over a second before shrugging and clearly moving one. Andrew might hate him a little.

_While the two of us on the rooftop_

He flops backwards onto his back, letting his arms sprawl out casually beside him and takes a deep, final, drag of his cigarette, burnt down nearly to his fingers, before stubbing it out on the ground beside him. Lazily, he turns his gaze back to Neil to find him looking down at him, expression far too soft to be for Andrew but gone in the second it takes for him to realise Andrew has seen and he lies down beside him, one arm on his stomach, the other above his head. They turn their gazes to the stars fighting valiantly to shine through the city’s pollution above them.

_Waitin on the world to wake up_

In Andrew’s opinion stargazing is overrated. But he can see the appeal now in the calm, the silence of their bubble, the quiet distance of the city traffic, the warmth of the man at his side. He closes his eyes and lets himself take a breath of the peace he feels, before morning comes and it's stolen away until the next night.

_Talking about the universe_

“I used to want to be an astronaut,” says Neil and Andrew turns his head to him in surprise but he’s staring thoughtfully at the sky above, “It seemed like the only way to get away from my father, just… leave earth. I think i liked the idea of floating in the stars too though.” Andrew considers this, taking in the man beside him while he does, taking advantage of a moment unobserved.

_Talking about the universe_

“But alas, you couldn't play stickball in a rocket,” he says eventually, smirking into the stars when Neil groans, aware that their positions have reversed, with him looking up and Neil looking at him, and just daring his cheeks to blush. 

_Universe_

He flips his head to the side to give him a deadpan look and realises that they are far closer than he realised, noses almost touching. The almost feels like far too much space now, a galaxy of empty air that shouldn't exist.

_Nobody knows what we've got_

“Yes or no?”

_Waitin on the world to wake up_

“Yes.”

_Talking about the universe_

Andrew kisses him lazely, slowly, like they have all the time in the world because sometimes he can't resist indulging himself in the lie of forever Neil Josten presents him. Even the rest of their lives isn't forever. Andrew is too cynical to believe it but something about the way those soft lips kiss his back makes him think that forever wouldn't be enough anyway.

_Talking about the universe_

They pull back, the slightest inch of space between them, foreheads and noses still pressed close together, breathes intermingling. Neil blinks his eyes open and this time Andrew let's him stare, content to stare back.

_Universe_

With a sigh, Neil butts his head softly against Andrew’s cheek and Andrew shifts over and lets him rest his head on his chest, wrapping his arm around him and resting his chin in his hair.

_With you_

“So, where would your galactic travels have taken you?” he asks, breathing in the cold night air and Neil’s smell, as he closes his eyes.

“Saturn.”

“Saturn?”

_It's been some time since I've felt a fire_

Neil finds him lying flat on his back in the middle of the roof, one arm covering his eyes. It hasn't been a good day. It hasn't really been a bad day either. It's just been… a day.

_That could reach in for this cold and blackened heart of mine_

He feels empty. The cup isn't half empty or half full, it's all been poured out. Or smashed. And now he’s left to collect the broken pieces, each sharp shard of glass cutting the soft skin on the inside of his fingers. He presses a finger to the shape of one of his sheathed knives, but finds the weight offers little comfort.

_Like the sun you rise in a dizzy blaze_

“Andrew?” He can't find it in himself to reply, or even nod. Heaviness has settled in, weighing down each muscle, each bone with invisible stones. It doesn't seem possible that he is still breathing, his blood still pumping, when he feels so far removed from it all, like instead of being a body, he is being trapped into one. It's dimly that he notes that Neil is sitting down beside him, his body warmth spreading to Andrew, a silent support.

_And you take my hands and fill them with your brilliant light_

“Yes or no?” he asks softly. It sounds far away, a distant call from a saving shore he can't quite reach, echoing through his head before he can understand it. He nods slowly. “Andrew.”

“Yes,” he chokes out, a lonely, hollow-sounding noise to his ears, energy summoned from Neil’s unspoken refusal to breach any boundaries without spoken permission. He feels soft skin running over his hands, a ferm soothing pressure and slowly his arm is being peeled from his face. He blinks up at Neil, crowned in the setting sun by flames dancing through his hair, crouched over Andrew and holding both of his hands tightly and close to his chest.

_Oh we light the way_

Neil’s lips are just a gentle brush to his cold hands but something in him cracks, a small fissure that lets the vast crushing weight of the world spill through into his nothingness, tearing it down as he tries to scramble to recover it, unable to bear whatever is trying to pull him down. He keeps his eyes on Neil, desperately needing something bright to cling to.

_Two old flames_

He knows somewhere, dimly, that usually Neil this close would set something inside into flames, that his presence would make him feel at least a little bit safer. But this isn't usually. Today Andrew is doing a different kind of falling.

_Young, in love, and hardly sane_

“Yes or no?” His voice sounds strange to his ears, too quiet, too far away, but Neil is nodding.

“Yes.” Andrew sits up and leans forward into him and Neil catches him, sitting back so as to take Andrew’s full weight, wrapping his arms around him and burying his head in Andrew’s hair. Andrew thinks he might be trembling from the cold but Neil is warm and steady. He can breathe a little bit easier now, his lungs slowing down to match Neil’s.

_Oh the cityscape's burning like an ashtray_

He closes his eyes against the sun, too bright for his tired eyes as it falls into behind the city, night rising after it, and buries his face into Neil’s jumper, wishing he could just disappear away from everything.

_Like an ashtray_

Neil smells of cigarette smoke and cheap shampoo. He shuts the world out except for that smell and the warmth of the arms around him, breathing it in deeply.

_While the two of us on the rooftop_

If he pretends enough, just for now, he can make this be all that exists, can let the world dissolve away except for this cold rooftop and the two of them, Andrew buried deep into Neil’s arms.

_Waitin on the world to wake up_

For now he can tell himself that everyone else is asleep. Gone away until he can deal with them. He can close his eyes and breath and pretend that they're the only ones awake. 

_Talking about the universe_

Neil begins to murmur something into his hair. He doesn't have the energy to listen to what he is saying, or to understand the words but the gentle rhythm and steady sound gives him something to hold onto, another distraction from himself he grasps for desperately.

_Talking about the universe_

Neil keeps talking, a low soothing voice Andrew would probably kill him for if he had the presence of mind, on and on while Andrew tries to regain his balance in his head. 

_Universe_

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, only that the sun has left them in only the cold, that if he looked up from his huddled position against Neil’d chest, the world around them would be dark, brave stars desperately trying to show him the universe through the clouds. It’s cold, he knows distantly, too cold for them to be up here in the middle of winter. 

_Nobody knows what we've got_

If they froze up here, the two of them turned to statues of ice, would they be found? How long would it take for people to go looking? The roof is their space. No one else knows of it. Maybe someone would come here by accident, stumble across them, with him in Neils arms and they would think that they were beautiful and sad. And stupid. 

_Waitin on the world to wake up_

Around them the world is going to bed, a normal, boring Monday evening. Andrew can’t think of anything worse than sleeping, dreaming, leaving the safety of the arms around him right now. 

_Talking about the universe_

Neil’s talking slowly has him relaxing, his muscles giving up all their held in tension to collapse completely against him, lulled by the sound and the promise of safety and comfort it brings.

_Talking about the universe_

Neil rocks him gently as he talks and Andrew is reminded of a lullaby he was sang once at one of his foster homes when he was very small, the sound pulling his brain away from itself and clearing away the thoughts he doesn’t want to hear. 

_Universe_

He still feels weighed down and some part of him still aches, better now maybe but still only just bearable. But he thinks this might also be what home feels like, wrapped tightly in these arms, protected and understood.

_With you_

Andrew falls asleep.

_So stop the moments here_

Neil is already smoking, feet dangling from the ledge, when Andrew comes out into the night, taking a deep gulp of the cool air with a warning glance at the heavy clouds above. He settles down beside him with his back against the railing, facing away from the edge so as to be able to see Neil’s face and wordlessly accepts the cigarette offered. His stomach twists as he takes it in, the still darkening sky and the man beside him, a small cloud of smoke incircling them in their private world.

_I don't wanna see another if it cannot be another with you_

”What did you think?” asks Neil and Andrew frowns, displeased at the outside world for intruding. He shrugs and looks away, taking a deep drag instead of answering. What did he think? They were all the same really, with varying levels of ugliness in their uniforms. He can’t say he has an opinion on any of them apart from vague distaste.

_Stay with me_

He doesn’t want to talk about it. Doesn’t want to think about it. About leaving. Graduating from this place. Gone, far away to play for some other team of fanatic idiots. Andrew doesn’t want to leave. 

_While the city sleeps_

Around them the night is still, the city sleeping below them as Andrew looks back to Neil’s face and raises an eyebrow in question, carefully picking up one of Neil’s scared hands at his curious nod and turning it over in his own. 

_Truth is that I don't like who I've been without you_

Andrew still doesn’t like touch. He used to believe he never would from anybody, that that experience had been ruined for him. He had found a way to make a sort of angry peace with that. 

_You_

Now he has to suppress a shiver when Neil intertwines their fingers, hands dancing together to the music of their breathes, skin pressed against skin. Now he leans further against him, peace made with a having one person to hold hands with, even if it was only one. Who else would he ever want to hold hands with anyway?

_I don't like who I've been without you_

How can Andrew be expected to leave? He’s spent his entire life leaving. Again and again and again. Each time it feels like being torn brutally away from something, each time some stupidly hopeful voice in his head had said, maybe here, maybe this is it. Each time it was wrong. 

_You  
_Neil leans his forehead against Andrews shoulder, soft hair tickling Andrews cheek and he closes his eyes, resting his face in Neil’s hair. 

_I don't like who I've been without_

He knows, has always known, that the Foxes were temporary. You can’t stay in college forever. But he didn't expect how much they would end up feeling like family. He didn’t expect how much he would not want to leave. 

_While the two of us on the rooftop_

Up here, above the campus, above the city and their teammates, he can pretend he won’t have to. In this space time doesn’t feel real and neither do any of the obligations that come with it. Here, it’s just the two of them.

_Waitin on the world to wake up_

The rest of the work can sleep on so long as Andrew can stay here a little longer. 

_Talking about the universe_

”I didn’t like their uniforms,” he says at last, ignoring Neil’s sigh in favor of nosing his face deeper into his soft hair and pretending they don’t have to talk about this.

_Talking about the universe_

”Andrew.”

”Josten.”

Neil wriggles away to face him, their hands still clutching tight to one another. He bites his lip as he looks at Andrew, searching for whatever he wants to find.

_Universe_

Andrew leans in towards him to stop him from continuing. He leans in closer at Neil’s whispered yes to his unspoken question. 

_Nobody knows what we've got_

Andrew kisses him.

_Waitin on the world to wake up_

Thoughts, worries, the anxious feeling in his stomach, dissolve in a moment where none of them have a place to exist.

_Talking about the universe_

When they pull apart, Andrew is the first to talk, words spilling out of him without permission.   
”Promise me you won’t get killed when I leave.” Neil’s eyes widen in surprise and understanding before softening in a way that makes Andrew want to punch him a little.  
”I won’t get killed,” he says and something in Andrew relaxes at the words. He nods and looks away to collect himself.

_Talking about the universe_

But Neil nudges him with his head and Andrew is forced to look back.   
”In return,” he says, ”Come visit.”

”In return for you not getting yourself killed?” repeats Andrew in disbelief and he grins infuriatingly pretty and nods. He wants Andrew to visit. Andrew finds himself smiling back, the feeling strange on his face and Neil’s smile stretches almost painfully in delight.

_Universe_

Andrew rolls his eyes. ”I suppose.” He hesitates then adds, ”But I’m not coming down all the way here every time, get a car and come visit me yourself.”

He shouldn’t be allowed to smile so brightly. Idiot.

_With you_

But Andrew has relaxed, his own smile small but a warm feeling in his stomach. Maybe he can keep this home, even when he leaves. Home. Andrew Minyard has a home and he’s not letting it go.


End file.
